Bad Habits
by fbi-woman
Summary: Some habits are hard to break… especially when we don't really want to break them. Set upon Abby's return from Ireland. Abby/Buck.


Title: Bad Habits

Author: fbi_woman

Rating: M

Type: 9-1-1, Abby/Buck, angst

Spoilers: None

Disclaimer: I don't own anything associated with 9-1-1 or Fox, and make no such claim. I'm just a little Canadian fangirl with nothing to my name.

Summary: Some habits are hard to break… especially when we don't really want to break them. Set upon Abby's return from Ireland. Abby/Buck

A/N: Inspired by the song "Bad Habits" by Delaney Jane. I suppose it's also a semi-cathartic way of dealing with my fears for the upcoming season. I mean, fanfic can fix everything, right? I was going to break this up into chapters since it's so long, but it's really angsty so I decided it might be a little cruel to dish out that much angst and also make you wait for the happy ending. This baby is long as fuck and took a lot of tears to create lol so I hope you like it.

Side note: for now, I'm ignoring the season 2 spoilers about JLH's character. I _could_ put her into this story quite easily, but I've chosen not to because I don't want to assume anything about their relationship. Also, I have no idea when Patricia's birthday is, but I'm making it in January. I know that's probably not right, but that's where it fits in this story lol.

* * *

Buck had a sinking feeling as he drove to the little café where Abby had asked to meet him. Something was wrong, and he knew it. They had talked fairly regularly while she was in Ireland; though the calls had gotten less frequent the longer she was there. It had scared him, if he was being honest. He had feared that she was losing interest or had met someone else on her travels. But then that glorious day came when she called and said she was coming home, and suddenly everything felt right with the universe again. She hadn't protested when he offered to come pick her up, and she had walked right into his waiting arms once she passed through customs. He had planned on driving her home, but she insisted on seeing his new apartment first, and they never made it back to the car. He made love to her through the night, holding her close when she slept, and he finally felt complete again.

Almost immediately afterwards, however, she had started to withdraw and become distant. Everything had seemed fine when he kissed her goodbye outside her building the next morning, but from that day on, it became clear that everything was _not_ fine at all. She had thrown herself back into work, and every time he suggested they get together, she had a reason why she couldn't. That had been the first red flag. He had finally worked up the nerve to confront her about it, but when he did, she said she was just a little overwhelmed and needed some time to get back into her routine. Initially he had bought that story, but then she had abruptly stopped returning his texts and calls for a day or two at a time. That was the second red flag. To say he was confused and worried would have been an understatement.

After not hearing from her for almost three days, she had called out of the blue last night and asked to meet him for breakfast. His heart had soared, relieved that she finally wanted to see him again, but the closer he got to the café, the more trepidation he felt. He was becoming increasingly convinced that this wasn't a good thing after all. He hadn't seen her in well over 2 weeks, and now suddenly she wanted to meet right away? It didn't sound particularly hopeful when he laid it out that way. Then, as he parked out front of the little storefront, he saw her sitting off to the side at one of the patio tables. She _never_ wanted to sit at the patio tables here, because they didn't have any sun umbrellas. Did that mean she wasn't planning to stay long? Cue red flag number 3. He now had the distinctly unsettling realization that this was probably about to be a conversation he didn't want to have.

When he reached the table, he bent down to kiss her but she turned her head at the last minute, letting his kiss fall on her cheek. Red flag number 4. He sighed and sat down across from her, waiting for her to lay it on him, but she just stared down at her hands with tears welling in her eyes.

"Abby, what's going on?"

She took a shaky breath. "I can't do this right now."

"Can't do what?"

"Us," she said quietly, finally looking up at him.

For a second, he thought his heart might have stopped. He knew something was up, but he hadn't thought it would be quite this bad. "You want to break up?"

She nodded.

"Can I ask why?"

"I just… I think I need to be alone for a while."

"You were alone in Ireland for three months!" He was really trying to keep his cool, but this didn't make any sense. She just got back, why was she doing this now?

"I was, and I wasn't. I was _physically_ alone, but I still had you to talk to and lean on. I haven't truly been alone since I took my mom in. I need to stand on my own two feet for a while."

"Abby, you know I don't mind waiting. I can give you time if that's what you want."

She shook her head, a few tears starting to spill over. "I don't want you to wait for me; that's a safety net that I can't let myself have. I know this is so cliché and stupid, and I never thought I'd actually say it, but it's seriously not you; it's me."

"So it's just over, just like that?"

She looked away, biting her lip, fighting back more tears.

"Can't we just go back to being friends and talking on the phone? Alone doesn't mean you can't have any friends, right?"

"I don't know if that's a good idea."

"I don't think any of this is a good idea, but apparently I don't have a say in our relationship."

She sighed. "Maybe, okay? I think we should take some time apart first, but then maybe after a while, we can try the phone thing again."

"Yeah, right."

"I promise, I'll call when I'm ready, okay? But it has to be just as friends."

"Okay." It wasn't okay, not by a long shot, but he was pretty sure that was the best offer he was going to get out of her. "I think I should go," he added abruptly, standing up and heading for his car. He had to get out of here before he lost his composure. He needed to blow off some steam, and the punching bag at the gym was calling his name.

"I'm sorry." Her voice was so quiet that he almost didn't hear the words.

It took all his strength not to turn back around and take one last look at her. "Yeah, me too."

* * *

It was an agonizing 6 weeks before he heard from her again. He had been moody and miserable since the last time he saw her. She said not to wait for her, but what else was he supposed to do? It wasn't like he could just flip a switch and stop loving her. He should have told her when he had the chance; maybe this wouldn't be happening if she had known how much she meant to him. He _could_ tell her now, but breaking up made it pretty obvious that she wouldn't want to hear it. On one hand he understood where she was coming from, and because of that he did want to respect her wishes. But on the other hand, he didn't understand why she would ever think of their relationship as a hindrance. All he wanted was for her to be happy, and he would never have held her back from something she needed to do for herself. Hell, he had done his best to be supportive when she took off to Ireland for 3 months! How could she possibly still feel like she couldn't maintain her independence if he was in her life? But even with the hurt he felt, all he really wanted was for her to come back.

He was just getting into bed when his phone rang. When he looked over and saw her name on the screen, his heart started pounding. She was calling, just like she promised. They could be friends again. Hope was suddenly like a balloon, lifting him out of his slump. He did his best to sound nonchalant when he answered the phone, but inside the excitement was running rampant.

He accepted the call. "Hey."

"Hey."

Suddenly he wasn't sure what to say to her. "So… how's it going?"

That seemed safe enough.

"Good, you?"

"Yeah, good." That was a bold-faced lie, but he didn't want to admit that he was taking it much worse than she was.

"Good, I'm glad."

They lapsed into an awkward silence, and he could feel that balloon of hope starting to deflate. Had things really changed that much in 6 weeks? To the point where they couldn't even carry on a conversation anymore?

"Any crazy calls lately?"

She threw him a bone, and for that he was grateful, but despite wracking his brain, he couldn't come up with a single example to talk about. There had to be at least one; 6 weeks is a long time to not have an unusual call. But God help him, nothing was coming to mind.

"Nothing I can think of. You?"

"Mm… I had a guy the other day that said someone broke into his house, but it turned out he was high and the culprit was his reflection."

He couldn't help but laugh. "How did you figure that out?"

"I asked what the intruder was doing and he said the guy was just staring at him, but that he had stolen his face. Then I asked where in the house he was, and he said they were both in the bathroom."

"Wow."

"Yeah."

Silence descended on them again, and it was starting to freak him out. It was _never_ like this with them, not even in the beginning. Everything had always flowed so naturally, and now it wasn't flowing at all.

"I'm glad you called," he blurted.

He waited for a response, but he didn't get one.

"I've missed you."

She sighed, and with a sinking feeling he realized he had made a huge mistake.

"Maybe this wasn't a good idea."

"Abby, don't, please…"

"We shouldn't do this again."

"I'll get over it, I will. It's just new still, that's all." He knew he sounded desperate, but he was. She was slipping right through his fingers all over again.

"And this is only going to make it harder."

"Right, because knowing I'll never hear from you again is _way_ easier."

"I don't want to fight with you."

The hurt was taking over now, consuming him. "You don't want _anything_ to do with me anymore, I get it."

"Buck, it's not like that and you know it."

"Really? Because it sounds _exactly_ like that."

Her voice was shaking now. "I shouldn't have called."

"You shouldn't have walked away."

He disconnected the call and hurled his phone across the room. _Fuck_. How the hell had that gone so wrong? How did it all go so wrong?

* * *

Another 3 weeks went by, and she hadn't called Buck. He had called once and left a message, apologizing for losing his cool, but she didn't call him back. What was she supposed to say? _It's okay; I know this is all on me and that you don't deserve any of it. You were completely justified… but we're still broken up, and I still don't think we should talk anymore._ Yeah, that would definitely go over well. She felt like shit for hurting him though. She knew he would be upset, and she knew it was a cheap shot after he had waited so patiently for months, but then she had gone and made it even worse with that call. She never should have agreed to try the phone thing again; she should have known it would just reopen the wound for both of them. It really was hard to lose her boyfriend and her best friend at the same time, and she was the one who made that choice. She could only imagine how much worse it must be for him… and after he had been nothing short of amazing to her.

She took her glass of wine to the living room and sat down on the couch, turning on the TV. It had been a long day, and she was ready for a quiet evening in. She was flicking through channels and waiting for her take-out to arrive when she landed on the local news, live on the scene of a major traffic accident involving a school bus and a transport truck. The update scrolling along the bottom read: 'At least 11 dead in bus crash: 2 adults and 9 children confirmed dead, 4 others in critical condition.' Her heart broke for the parents whose tearful images were flashing on the screen as they waited outside the police barrier or at the hospital for news. She couldn't even imagine how agonizing it must feel like to wonder if your child was still alive. She had heard that fear and despair in the voices of callers before, and it sounded truly torturous.

The image on the screen changed to a shot of the crash scene itself, and it was horrific to say the least. The transport truck was overturned but otherwise in tact, but the school bus was nothing more than a tattered frame, half a wall, and smoking remnants. It was incredible that even half the kids survived. Then, in the corner of the screen, much to her chagrin, she spotted Buck and Bobby still digging through the remains of the bus. _Damn_. She knew someone had to take the call, but she had hoped it wouldn't be his team Maybe she should check in on him. She wasn't sure if he would want her to, but a scene like that would be hard on anyone and she was worried about him. Obviously he couldn't talk right now, but he might want to later. She decided this was an exceptional circumstance worthy of breaking the "no talking" pact.

[Text from Abby] yo _u ok?_

Her food arrived and she put on a movie, not wanting to watch any more of the tragedy unfolding. She had just changed into her nightshirt and was climbing into bed when her phone finally pinged.

[Text from Buck] _can I see you?_

She hesitated. She knew she should say no, that they could talk and nothing more, but she couldn't stand the thought of him alone and hurting.

[Text from Abby] _ok_

There was a knock on her door only 2 minutes later, and she realized he must have been in the parking lot when he messaged her. They stood facing off in the doorway for a minute, regarding each other warily, before his face started to crumble and she pulled him into her arms. He buried his face in her hair as the tears started to fall and she held him tight, rubbing his back and whispering soothingly in his ear. When he finally pulled back to wipe his face, she took is hand and led him inside, closing the door behind them. They sat side by side on the couch, still holding hands but not quite looking at one another. The pain was evident on his face, and while she knew she was still part of it, tonight she was the smallest part.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He shook his head. "I just want to forget. I want to stop thinking about it, but I can't."

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Can I stay?" he asked, his voice sounding so small. "The couch is fine," he added, "I just don't want to be alone."

 _No, Abby, say no_. "Of course."

She gathered a pillow and a blanket for him while he went to get ready for bed. She still had the extra toothbrush he used when he stayed over tucked away in a drawer. When he returned, he was down to just a t-shirt and boxers, and she had to remind herself that they weren't together anymore; she couldn't ogle him anymore. She helped get him settled on the couch, though she knew he wouldn't be able to sleep any time soon. He hugged her again, and against her better judgment, she let him hold on longer than she thought she probably should. It still broke her heart to see him like this. She wanted to take the pain away, but she knew she couldn't. He thanked her quietly and she nodded, reluctantly heading for the safety of her room. She left the bedroom door open. She didn't know why, it just felt wrong to close it. After 30 minutes of futile attempts to fall asleep, she heard quiet sniffling coming from the living room. _You should stay here, Abby. You're playing with fire. Just stay in the damn bed and pretend you're asleep._ But of course she couldn't do that; her conscience wouldn't allow it, even though it was risky as hell for her to go out there.

He was sitting up, hunched over with his head in his hands, no doubt replaying the horror he had seen that day. For both of them death was sadly part of the job, but when it was kids… that was something else altogether. Nothing cuts as deep as being unable to save a child. She sat down beside him, wrapping an arm around him and resting her head against his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled quietly after a minute.

She was confused. "For what?"

"I know you don't want to see me anymore, I just didn't know where else to go."

Another piece of her heart shattered at his words. "Buck, you don't have to apologize. I would have done the same thing. And it's not that I don't _ever_ want to see you… it's more complicated than that."

"I don't get it."

"I know, and I wish I knew how to explain it better. It's just that I've spent so long living my life for someone else, making all my decisions and choices based around someone else, and I know you wouldn't ask that of me, but I don't know that I wouldn't do it anyways. It's just what I'm used to. I need to know that I'm living for _me_ again, and the only way I can make sure I do that is to not have any attachments. I'm not saying that we'll never be friends or whatever again at some point down the line, but I don't know when that might be, and I don't want you waiting for me indefinitely. You're young; I want you to go live your life, while I live mine. And I don't think either of us will be able to do that if we're still hanging out or talking."

He didn't say anything and didn't move a muscle, so she changed the subject.

"You need to get some rest, you've had a hard day and you must be exhausted. What can we do to help you fall asleep?"

He scoffed. "Nothing."

"There must be something. Do you want stay in the bed with me?" _Stupid, Abby; that's stupid move and you know it._

"I keep seeing them every time I close my eyes. I just want to forget," he said again, finally turning to face her, "and no one can help me do that."

 _Go back to your room NOW. ALONE. This isn't going anywhere good._ Despite the alarm bells in her head, her gaze involuntarily dropped to his lips before she caught herself and lifted it back to his eyes. It was a terrible idea, but she would do anything to ease his pain, even just for tonight.

"Maybe I could… for a little while, at least."

His eyes widened. Apparently that wasn't the response he was expecting.

"It can't happen again though," she added.

"I know," he replied quietly.

Their lips met tentatively, as if they were both afraid to scare the other away. She kept it soft and light for a while, trying not to think about how much she had missed him. When she couldn't banish that thought from her mind, she shifted to a slow, deep, sensual kiss, leading both their minds elsewhere. She moved to straddle him, sighing into his mouth when she sank down and felt his hardness through the silky fabric of his boxers and the flimsy lace of her panties. Before she met him, she had easily gone well over a year without sex and hadn't given it much thought; now after 9 weeks apart, she found herself aching for him. She knew she shouldn't let herself indulge like this, and she supposed she was taking advantage of the situation, but she didn't know how else to tire him out and take his mind off what he had seen. It would be hard to walk away again in the morning, but he was clinging to her like a life preserver, and she wouldn't deny him this tonight.

When she could no longer ignore the throbbing between her legs, she took his hand and led him to the bedroom, much like she had the very first time they were together. It was a bittersweet moment, knowing this would be the last time it happened. She lifted his shirt off, and he pulled her oversized nightshirt right over her head without bothering to unbutton it. She let him take control from there on out; tonight was about him, so he could call all the shots. He claimed her lips passionately as he tugged her panties over her hips, letting them fall to the floor. His boxers were next to go, and she reached out to touch him but he caught her wrist and pushed her hand away. He walked them until the back of her legs hit the bed and then encouraged her to lay back. To her surprise, he started to kiss his way down her body. This wasn't what she had been expecting; she had assumed she would have a more active role in distracting him, but it seemed that he had other ideas.

Though they hadn't been together all that long, he had taken it upon himself to learn all of her favourite, most sensitive spots, and he was currently putting that information to very good use. By the time he approached her centre, she was already squirming and whimpering beneath him. Her fingers gripped his short hair as he trailed his tongue along the length of her. He dipped his tongue inside her and she gasped, her hips jolting off the bed. He chuckled against her, and the vibrations made her moan. He teased her a little longer, working his tongue in and out of her slowly, until she was panting and writhing against him. At last he finished her off, taking her clit between his lips and sucking on the little nub, and she came with a wordless cry.

He travelled back up her body, taking time to lavish attention on her breasts. She shivered when he tweaked her hard nipples, everything still hypersensitive from her climax. He kissed her lips again, his tongue teasing hers, and he nipped gently at her bottom lip before he released her. When he was sure she was ready, he nestled himself between her legs and sank into her. He groaned when she wrapped her legs around him and lifted her hips, taking him in as deep as she could. He continued to kiss her while he started to move, setting a pace that was maddeningly slow and yet oh so good. She savoured every moment of it, trying to memorize the feeling of his skin on hers and his hard cock inside her, because after tonight, it would all be off limits again. As hard as that would be, she still believed it was what she needed to do. And she hoped that tonight might also serve as some closure for him, so he could move on. Not the she _liked_ the idea of him with someone else, but she did like the idea of him being happy again.

He sped up just slightly and changed the angle just enough to get some pressure on her clit. Suddenly she was teetering on the edge, her nails digging into his shoulders as she tried to fight her impending release to wait for him. When she felt his rhythm start to falter, she knew he was as close as she was, and she gave herself over to the intense pleasure. He moaned her name against her neck as he came with her, and she held him against her while their heart rates slowed. He rolled off of her, and they lay side by side, kissing softly until they both drifted off into sleep. In the morning, she felt him get out of bed, but pretended to still be asleep. She didn't know what to say, and she thought it would be easier on them both if they didn't have to talk about it. She just barely managed to keep it together when he gently brushed her hair out of her face and placed a kiss on her forehead before he left. As soon as she heard the front door close, she let the tears fall.

* * *

It was another 3 weeks later when she saw him next. It wasn't a planned meeting: quite the contrary, actually. It was an unseasonably warm day, so she and a co-worker had decided to walk to a little bistro down the block for their lunch break. They were chatting over sandwiches when she saw him across the street, walking out of a coffee shop. It was like one of those scenes in a movie, when everything else fades away and all you can see is that one person. She lost track of what Greg was saying as she watched Buck stroll towards his car, which she could see parked a short ways down the road. Then he looked over and spotted her, and a wave of nervous energy coursed through her. They hadn't talked since that night. Should she wave? Would he want her to? She watched, frozen, as he started to smile, but then suddenly his face fell and she could have sworn she saw a flicker of anger before he turned away again, hurrying towards his car. _What the hell?_

"Abby?"

Hearing her name snapped her out of her thoughts and she looked over at Greg.

"Sorry, what?"

She still didn't hear what he said, because at that moment, she understood exactly what had just happened with Buck: he thought she was on a date. She told him she wanted to be alone for a while, that she couldn't see him, and here she was out with a guy he had never seen before. _Shit_.

She jumped up out of her chair and quickly looked both ways before darting across the street, leaving poor Greg mid-sentence.

"Buck!"

He didn't slow down or turn around. She called his name again, but still no reaction. He was opening the car door now, and she picked up a jog to try and catch up. The engine was already running when she got there, but just as he pulled away, she caught a glimpse of his face in the rear-view mirror, and the hurt in his eyes was devastating.

She sighed and trudged back across the street, forcing out some kind of apology for running off. She wasn't hungry anymore, so she wrapped up the rest of her sandwich and pulled out her phone.

[Text from Abby] _please don't be mad, it wasn't what it looked like_

She checked her phone compulsively throughout the rest of her shift, but he never called and he never replied. She sent another text on her last break.

[Text from Abby] _call me, please?_

Her shift came to an end, and still she hadn't heard from him. She felt terrible; she really didn't want him thinking she had lied to him about what she wanted or why she left. Sitting in her car, staring at her empty call log, she weighed her options. He hadn't been wearing his uniform when she saw him, so either it was his day off, or he was working the night shift. Showing up at the station was likely a bad idea. She didn't really want to have a blowout in front of his colleagues, and after everything that had happened, they probably wouldn't be too happy to see her in the first place. That left his apartment. She had only been there once, the night she got back from Ireland, but she was pretty sure she remembered which one it was. If he wouldn't voluntarily talk to her, then she would go _make_ him talk to her.

She drove over to his building and marched up to the door, pounding on it firmly before she could talk herself out of it. She heard footsteps as he neared the door, but nothing happened. She figured he had probably looked through the peephole, seen her, and decided to pretend he wasn't home. No chance she was going to let him get away with that.

She banged on the door again. "Buck! Open the door! I know you're there."

The door swung open and she shoved her way inside, not waiting for an invitation.

"What the hell, Abby?"

"Well, since you can't answer texts or make a phone call, I decided I better come over here."

"Maybe I don't want to talk to you."

"Fine! You don't have to talk to me, but you do have to listen."

Anger flashed in his eyes. "Why? So you can lie to me again?"

"I didn't lie to you! That's what I'm _trying_ to tell you!"

"You know what? It doesn't even matter. You dumped me, you said not to wait for you, I should have gotten the message loud and clear: you don't want me."

"Will you shut up for 5 seconds so I can tell you it _wasn't_ a date?"

"Does _he_ know it wasn't a date?"

"He's just a friend from work, we eat lunch at the same time fairly often. That's it."

He walked towards her, his eyes dark, and she started backing up. "He doesn't look at you like just a friend from work."

"Oh yeah? Then how do you think he looks at me?"

"Like he wants you."

Her back hit the wall, and she was trapped.

"And that bothers you." It came out as more of a statement than the question she meant it to be.

"Yeah, it does."

"Why?"

"Because _I_ want you."

"Well you can't have me."

"You don't think so?"

He used his hips to pin her to the wall and she couldn't stifle her moan when she felt his arousal, hot and hard, pressed against her. He dropped his lips to her neck, teasing the sensitive spot behind her ear.

"Tell me you don't want to do this, and I'll let you go," he said.

She knew she should take the out, but she couldn't form the words. He was sexy as hell when he was mad, and all she could think about was how badly she wanted him inside her. His hands snuck between them to undo her pants and he slipped one into her panties, tracing her folds and finding her wet.

"That's what I thought."

He slid one finger inside her and she gasped, she sensation snapping her out of her fog and into action. She tore at his belt buckle and hastily undid his jeans, pushing both them and his boxers down. Still working his finger in and out, he used his other hand to pull her clothes down too. Without another word, he grabbed her with both hands and lifted her against the wall, plunging his cock into her slick heat. He smothered her cry with his mouth, kissing her fiercely, and started to move. She wrapped her legs around his waist, meeting every thrust with her own. With emotions running so high, it didn't take long for either of them to reach the edge. With a loud moan, she came around him, throwing her head back and scarcely even feeling it hit the wall. He pounded into her a few more times before succumbing to his own release.

They stood together, slumped against the wall, trying to catch their breath. Her feet were back on the floor, but she didn't trust her legs just yet and was holding on to his shoulders for support. But as the high began to fade, the awkwardness set in. Neither knew what to say, so they just redressed in silence. Finally she forced herself to look up and him, and their reality hit her hard. There was still a little bit of anger there, but mostly he looked hurt. She came here knowing he was hurt and instead of fixing it, she sat back and let him act on it. And now it was even worse. _Everything_ she had done so far had made it worse. Every time she thought she was only trying to make him feel better, she was actually making him feel worse. It had to stop.

Tears welled up in her eyes when she spoke: "I don't want to do this anymore."

* * *

This was the worst day off ever. She had really underestimated how hard this day would be for her. She had made her mom's favourite breakfast and eaten it alone. Then she went and sat in the cemetery for a while. Normally the family would get together for her mom's birthday, and she had tried to work something out, but everyone was either busy or reluctant to come. She understood; they would all be dealing with this birthday in their own ways, and being the first, none of them knew quite what to expect. But everyone else had other family to lean on, and she didn't. She told Buck she wanted to be alone for a while… well, she was alone as fuck right now, and it felt pretty terrible. God she was stupid. The time they were together was the happiest she had been for as long as she could remember. Why had she pushed him away? She wanted to prove to herself that she could be alone and stand strong, but Buck had been right – she had accomplished that in Ireland, travelling by herself again after so many years. Whatever she was doing now, it wasn't _living_. She went to work, and she came home. Her routine was exactly the same as it was when her mom was alive, just without the company. The problem with not having someone to consult or consider was that you didn't have anyone to share things with either. She was supposed to be free and doing whatever she wanted, but she wasn't doing what she wanted, because she wanted to undo it all and she couldn't.

By the time she got home, it was early afternoon. Was it too early to start drinking? _Fuck it_ , she thought, pouring herself a glass of wine with lunch. She was clearing the dishes when her phone rang. The caller ID said Matt, and she was torn between relief that someone cared enough to call, and concern that she might completely fall apart if she talked to him. After a few more rings, she made her decision.

"Hey."

"Hey, how are you doing?"

She sighed. "Not great, you?"

"About the same."

"I wish you could have come for a visit." She silently cursed herself as tears welled up in her eyes.

"Me too, but it's all hands on deck today. I'm on my lunch break right now."

"I should have picked up a shift; at least I'd have something else to think about… somewhere else to go… people to be around."

"You're alone?" She could hear the frown in his voice.

"Yeah."

"What about Buck? Working?"

She cringed a little. She had deftly managed to avoid telling her brother about their breakup thus far, not wanting to face what he would have to say. He knew her well enough to call her on her shit, and she knew her defense was weak at best.

"We… uh… we're sort of… not together anymore."

"Oh, I'm sorry. When did that happen?"

 _Fuck_. _Should she lie? She should definitely lie._ "Not that long ago."

There was a pause and then he sighed. "And how long ago is not that long ago?"

God, she was a bad liar. "Just after I got back."

"And you're just telling me now?"

"Yeah…"

"Are you going to tell me what happened?"

"I'd rather not."

"But you're going to." His voice was firm, and she knew he wasn't going to let it go.

"I broke up with him."

"Why? I thought you really liked him?"

"I do… did… do." Damn her honesty.

"Then why?"

"I don't know. I guess I just felt like I needed to, you know, not have any strings for a while, or something."

"Isn't that what Ireland was?"

 _Ugh, men_. "That's what he said."

"So is this like, permanent then?"

"I don't know."

"Do you want it to be?"

That was all it took to trigger the tears she had been valiantly holding in. "No."

"I don't want this to sound insensitive, but if you aren't taking advantage of having no strings, and you _want_ to have strings, what exactly was the point of cutting them?"

"I don't know. It made sense at the time. I thought I needed time alone to figure out what I wanted, and I guess I did… it's just that I realized I already had what I wanted and now I don't." She was full on crying now.

"Abby –"

"No," she cut him off, sniffling, "I don't want to talk about it anymore. Today is supposed to be about mom, not me and Buck."

"Okay, you're right, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pushed."

"It's fine. I should have told you sooner."

"Well, if you're not working today, then what are you up to?"

She told him about her morning and her plans for the afternoon – family photo albums, favourite movies – essentially she was just planning to put a positive spin on dwelling. 'Reminiscing' was the word she chose to describe it. They shared a few warm memories, and then he had to go.

"You going to be okay by yourself?"

"I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself."

"I know, but I'm your brother: it's my job to look out for you."

"I'll be fine." _Liar_.

"Okay," he didn't sound convinced, but he went along with it. "Love you."

"Love you too, bye."

She hung up the phone and poured herself another glass of wine.

By the time she finished dinner, she was on her second bottle and second-guessing all of her life choices. God she was pathetic – drinking all day and having a pity party were new lows for her. She put on another movie, but she didn't really watch it. Instead she spent the entire time trying to imagine what her mom would say if she told her about the mess she had created, but every scenario ended with her mom telling her to get off her ass and do something about it because feeling sorry herself wasn't going to solve anything. She was right, of course. Besides, this whole thing started because she wanted to live for herself, right? Well right now, she really wanted to see Buck, so she was going to do it. So what if they hadn't spoken in what, almost 2 months? He wouldn't turn her away; of that, she was sure. And maybe it wasn't too late to admit that she fucked up _royally_. She was way too drunk to drive, so she called a cab and headed downstairs to wait.

She stood outside his door, fiddling with the sleeves of her sweater. She should have brought the wine with her. She was rapidly losing her courage to do this without more alcohol. _You came all the way over here, just do it already!_ With a deep breath, she raised her arm and knocked tentatively on the door. _What if he isn't home?_ She hadn't even considered that. She really should have called first, but her mind was admittedly not at its clearest. Then there was a slight shuffling sound, and the click and slide of a lock, and her heart started racing. _He's home_. She started to panic. _What the hell were you thinking, Abby? What are you even going to say to him?_ The door swung open and she froze, probably looking every bit like a deer in the headlights, despite the fact that it was her idea to come here.

He looked understandably confused. "Hi."

"Hi." She gazed down at her hands, as if they held the answer of what to do next.

There was a moment of awkward silence before he broke it. "Did you want to come in?"

 _Right._ "Uh, yeah, if that's okay." She knew she was blushing. _Get a grip_.

She followed him inside, then she continued to stand and stare uncomfortably at the floor. To his credit, he seemed to understand that she wasn't quite sure what to say or why she was here, and he didn't push. But when she looked back up at him, he was watching her expectantly.

So she said the first thing she thought of: "It's my mom's birthday today."

His expression softened immediately. "I'd ask if you're okay, but since you're here, I'm kind of guessing you're not."

She shook her head and tears started to pour down her cheeks. Without a word, he took her in his arms and she clung to him while she cried. She knew she didn't deserve this support from him, but no matter how hard she pushed him away, he was always there to catch her when she fell. He had always tried to do everything right for her, and she was the one who let them down. And in this moment, she knew without a doubt that it was the dumbest thing she had ever done. But she didn't have the slightest clue of how she could ever make it right. The heartache she felt over her mom was out of her control, but she had no one to blame but herself for the heartache she felt over Buck.

As her sobs started to subside, he took her hand and gently led her to the couch, sitting her down and tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

"Can I get you anything? Tea, maybe?"

She shook her head no, biting her lip anxiously. She knew what she wanted, but she also knew she didn't have a right to ask for it.

"Are you sure you don't want anything?"

She took the plunge. "I want you," she said quietly, leaning in to press her lips against his.

He kissed her back immediately, coaxing her mouth open and brushing his tongue against hers. With a small moan, she pulled him closer, but then suddenly he broke away from her.

"I'm sorry Abbs, but I can't do this."

"Why not?"

He wouldn't meet her eyes, and the realization struck her like an icy bolt of lightning. _There's someone else_.

"Oh my God."

"Abby –"

"Oh my God! I'm so sorry! I… I never should have come here like this. I'm the one that ended this, and yet I have this bad habit of picking it right back up whenever something happens, and it's not right. It's not fair to you. I said I wouldn't do it again, and then I went and assumed I could." She leapt up from the couch, intent on making a beeline for the door, but the movement was far too quick for her level of intoxication. She would have lost her balance completely if he hadn't caught her.

He took a good, hard look at her for a second. "Are you drunk?"

"I… I had some wine…" she stammered, still dizzy from getting up so fast, "yeah…" she finished with a dejected sigh.

"Please tell me you didn't drive here."

"I took a cab."

"Good. Now come on, let's get you to bed."

"No," she protested weakly, "I have to go. I can't be here."

"You can stay, it's fine. It's not like she lives here."

"Will you lay with me? Or is that too much? I promise I won't try anything." She hated how small her voice sounded, but she desperately wanted the comfort of sleeping in his arms one last time.

"Yeah, I can do that."

He got her into bed and turned off the light before he climbed in behind her, wrapping an arm around her and holding her close. She wasn't sure how long they had been lying there or even if he was still awake, but as she was drifting off, there was one thing she still had to get off her chest before she fell asleep.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, "for everything."

* * *

Abby had never particularly cared about being alone on Valentine's Day – she had spent far more of them single than not – but this year she finally understood why so many single people hated it. It was just another reminder of what she _didn't_ have… of what she had ruined. And it made her do stupid things. Like last week, when she called the restaurant where she and Buck had their first date, on Valentine's, and made a reservation. She didn't know what the hell she was thinking when she did it. She couldn't envision a scenario where going there and sitting alone wouldn't be both horribly embarrassing and terribly depressing, and yet she made the reservation anyways. Stupid. Now she was sitting in her living room, wearing a dress and heels, and debating if she had the nerve to actually go through with it. _It's just another Thursday night, you can do this_ , she told herself. _There are always couples on dates at restaurants; today is no different._ She wasn't completely sold on that story, but it got her out the door.

By the time the waitress arrived with her glass of wine – just one, she vowed there would be no calling a cab and showing up drunk at Buck's door tonight – she had concluded that this was one of the worst ideas she ever had. She had been here all of 5 minutes, and she had already noticed a couple people glancing her way, no doubt wondering if she was meeting someone here or actually dining alone on Valentine's Day. _Table for one, ladies and gentlemen, get over it_. She decided to put on a brave face and did her best to look unperturbed, casually taking a look around as if she wasn't scanning to see if anyone else was alone. Much to her comfort, someone else was in fact alone… and he was looking at the menu, so maybe he wasn't just waiting for a date to arrive. Her relief was short-lived, however; it ended abruptly when the waiter approached, and the man lowered the menu to order. _You have got to be fucking kidding me_. It was Buck.

Clearly the universe was playing some kind of cruel trick on her. Did he actually bring his new girlfriend here for their first Valentine's Day together? Her heart sank a little. She had chosen this place because it felt like somewhere special to _them_ , but obviously he didn't think of it that way. There was a lump forming in her throat and she was thinking she should probably make a break for it before he saw her. She really didn't want to sit and watch him with his girlfriend, and that's exactly what she would do if she stayed. Glancing around, she tried to pick out her waitress. This was bound to be an awkward first: asking for the cheque after just a glass of wine. Not seeing the girl she was looking for, her eyes settled back on Buck and her breath caught in her chest. He was looking right back at her.

If ever there was a time where she wanted the floor to open up and swallow her whole, this was it. He had just caught her alone, at the scene of their first date, on the anniversary of their first date. This was even more embarrassing than she had imagined the night could be. She knew her face must be bright red and she looked away self-consciously. _Shit, shit, shit._ Now she was going to have to sit here and have dinner and act like she was totally fine, when fine was the last word she would use to describe herself right now. Her phone vibrated in her purse and suddenly she had a great idea; she could act like the message was her date cancelling, and then she would have an excuse to leave. _Perfect_. At least, it was until she saw the message was from Buck.

[Text from Buck] _Waiting for your date?_

 _Crap_. There went her plan. _Play it cool, Abby._

[Text from Abby] _Why, are you jealous? :P_

[Text from Buck] _Maybe. Was going to ask you to join me is all_

Wait, what? Was he serious?

[Text from Abby] _Not sure your girlfriend would be on board with that_

[Text from Buck] _No girlfriend_

She bit her lip to keep from smiling, knowing she shouldn't take joy in someone's breakup, but she had to admit she was pretty happy for herself that it hadn't worked out. It didn't seem like they had been together long anyways; she had seen him only a few weeks ago, and that was the first he had mentioned it. Couldn't be more than 2 months or so.

[Text from Abby] _Oh? What happened?_

[Text from Buck] _She wasn't you_

"Are you ready to order?"

The voice startled her and she almost dropped the phone.

"Sorry, what?" she asked, looking up at the waitress.

"Do you need a few more minutes with the menu?"

"Oh… um, actually, I'm moving to another table," she said apologetically, "I just ran into a friend."

The girl didn't look impressed, but said it was no problem. Feeling a little guilty, Abby still left her a tip anyways and headed for Buck's table.

He smiled as she sat down. "Hey."

"Hey."

"You look amazing."

"You're not so bad yourself," she replied, her eyes wandering over his suit.

"So what brings you here alone on Valentine's Day?"

"The same thing that brought you here."

"Why are we still doing this, Abby?"

"Doing what?"

"Pretending we don't miss the hell out of each other."

She sighed, looking down at her hands. "Because I don't know how I can ever make this up to you."

"I don't need you to make it up to me. You're human; you went through a huge change in your life, and you dealt with it the way you felt you needed to. It hurt like hell, and I really hope it never happens again, but I don't hold it against you."

"You have to stop being so wonderful to me. I _really_ don't deserve it this time."

"Abby, when are you going to get it? I love you. I want to work through these things because I want _this_ ," he gestured between the two of them. "I know it's not always going to be easy, and I can take it. All you have to do is let me be there with you."

"You make it sound so easy."

"It doesn't _have_ to be complicated. Do you still want to be with me?"

"Yes."

"And I still want to be with you. That seems pretty straightforward, don't you think?"

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah."

"So are we going to do this then?"

"Yeah, okay." She couldn't stop the smile from spreading across her face. "So… you love me, huh?"

"Yeah, I do. I was trying to work up the nerve to tell you when you came home, but then you kind of dropped off the face of the earth and dumped me."

She winced. "I'm so sorry… about that, and about everything. I thought I would lose myself again unless I was on my own, but I shouldn't have jumped to that conclusion. I should have at least tried to find a balance before giving up."

"I know you're sorry. I heard you that night, before you fell asleep."

She blushed, still a little embarrassed about that whole drunken encounter.

"Abby, just promise me that next time something big like that is bothering you, or you think you need some space, that you'll talk to me first? We're a team, remember? You can always tell me anything, and I'll always do whatever I can to help you."

"I know. I'm just not used to having someone to lean on, and then I start to feel bad about needing you so much. But I'm going to work on that. No more pushing you away, I promise."

"That's all I needed to hear," he said with a grin.

"Can I tell you something right now?"

"Of course."

"I love you too."

He leaned over and she met him half way, their lips crashing together hungrily, both of them eager to make up for lost time, but the uncomfortable clearing of a throat interrupted them. The waiter had arrived with Buck's food. They sat back sheepishly as he placed the plate down and offered to get a menu for Abby, but to save time she simply ordered the same thing Buck did. If he was thinking what she was – and the fire in his eyes suggested he was – then they had a long night ahead of them and she was pretty keen on getting him home. When the waiter returned with her glass of wine, Buck raised his glass to toast with her.

"To our second Valentine's Day… hopefully it goes a lot better than the first one."

She laughed as they clinked glasses. Coming here tonight was definitely the best worst idea she ever had.


End file.
